


What did you think?

by claro



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstanding, apparently mycroft has no morals, mystrade, oh dear greg, you sent me a what?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2834828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claro/pseuds/claro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg's having trouble and John knows someone who might be able to help him out. Misunderstandings ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What did you think?

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I thought this was a good idea.

John passed Greg a styrofoam cup of coffee and looked on as Sherlock elbowed past Anderson before dropping to his knees and pulling out his tiny magnifying glass, as the tall man reached for the body, Greg shouted over John's head at the other officers.

'Don't let him put anything in his mouth this time!'

John chuckled into his tea, 'Spoil a man's fun.'

'Watch it you,' Greg warned, 'I don't need to be hearing about your sex life.'

John blushed slightly, 'Still on that dry spell?'

'God, you've no idea.'

'You should be careful. If you don't use it then it'll shrivel up and fall off.'

'John!'

'Trust me,' John's voice was solemn, 'I'm a doctor. I know these things.'

'You're a strange man, John Watson.'

'I live with Sherlock,' John shrugged as if that were explanation enough.

The man himself was trying to slip something into his pocket without Anderson spotting him.

'Whatever he's got I want it back at the station first thing in the morning.'

John raised an eyebrow at his friend, 'Allowing him to withold evidence?'

'Can you think of a way to stop him?'

'Sorry, I already tried tying him to the bed.'

'Yeah, and how'd that work out?'

John smirked and took a sip of his tea, causing Greg to roll his eyes. But then his face fell and he shook his head sadly.

'If I still have a job come the end of the month then I promise I'll get you a set of police issue handcuffs.'

'We've already got a set, thanks,' John paused, wary of broaching the elephant at the crime scene, 'That investigation still ongoing?'

'Yeah.

'Sorry.'

Greg sighed, 'Yeah well, if you can keep loverboy from handing over my ID when he breaks into M15 then I'd really appreciate it.'

Twenty feet away Sherlock started yelling at Anderson.

'Time to get to work.'

 

#

 

When Greg arrived home several days later he was surprised to pass Sherlock sweeping down the stairs from his flat, coat billowing dramatically behind him.

'Sherlock?' Greg shouted after him, 'Were you in my flat? Did you break in again? Sherlock?'

'Sorry Greg,' John came running down the stairs after his partner, 'I told him we should wait, but you know what's he's like.'

'What was he doing?' Greg then caught sight of the other man in his flat, 'And who is that?'

'Ah,' John blushed and bit his lip, 'About that.'

'John?' Greg frowned as he looked up at the strange man. He was tall and elegant, immaculate in a three piece suit, his long fingers twirling the handle of his umbrella. Greg found himself staring at the man, and was certain his mouth was open. He could practically feel John's smirk from the stairs below him.

'He's here for you,' John said.

'What do you mean?' Greg had a sinking feeling that he knew what John was up, and under any other circumstances he would have been offended at his friend's interference, but he couldn't stop looking at the man in his flat, who was clearly pretending he couldn't hear them.

'I thought he could help with at least one of your...little problems.'

And then John was gone, clattering down the stairs to try and catch up to Sherlock before he got himself knocked over by a bus.

Greg paused, hand gripping the bannister, heart beating too fast. Then he swallowed and started to climb the rest of the stairs. As he reached the top the other man turned his head to look at him, fixing him with intense eyes. Greg took a second to fully appreciate the other man. He had unusual features, a long nose and a knowing twist to his mouth when he smiled. But dear God the man was sexy. And he seemed completed unsurprised by the way Greg was looking at him.

'Alright then,' Greg stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind him and pulling off his scarf at the same time.

Stopping before the other man he held out a hand. The reached out to shake it, and Greg took the opportunity to yank it hard, pulling the man to his feet, where they stood, just inches away from each other, so close Greg could feel the other man's breath on his face. He licked his lips, and got a tiny thrill from the way the man swallowed.

There was the smallest of pauses, and then Greg had grabbed the man by his expensive jacket and closed the gap between them, crashing their mouths together. There was a sound as the umbrella was dropped to the floor, and then those long, pale hands were at the back of Greg's neck, and then running down his shoulders, pushing his coat to the floor.

Greg moaned at the gently bite to his bottom lip and started walking the man backwards to the bedroom, his own hands already working at the strangers buttons, and silently thanking God for John Watson and his good ideas.

 

#

 

'You're looking pleased with yourself,' John smirked the next time they were called to a crime scene.

'Hmm,' was all Greg said.

They edged around the police tape, trying to stay out of the way of the forensics team, and watching the van from the morgue carefully – it wouldn't be the first time Sherlock had tried to hijack it or treat it like his own personal taxi.

'Where is the body thief anyway?'

John waved his hand across towards his partner, and Greg had to squint through the rain to catch sight of the familiar coat and unruly hair. When he did see him, Sherlock was glaring at the man he was talking to, and Greg swore he could make out the petulant pout from where he stood. Then he stopped, his heart beating fast as he realised who the other man was.

'It's him,' Greg couldn't take his eyes off the red haired man who was still leaning on his umbrella, talking to Sherlock, 'That man you...what's he doing here?'

John blew on his tea and followed Greg's gaze.

'Oh, you mean Mycroft?'

'Mycroft?'

'Yeah, Sherlock's brother,' John frowned up at Greg, who's mouth was slightly open.

'Sherlock's brother? You sent him to my...'

'Yeah, he basically runs the government and he owes me a favour after the last time I had to bail Sherlock out. I thought he could help you with the inquest.'

Mycroft chose that moment to turn around and he caught Greg's eye and nodded, lifting his umbrella in salute before continuing his conversation.

'Inquest,' Greg repeated faintly.

John narrowed his eyes in confusion as his friend backed up a step, as if trying to hide behind him, 'Yeah. What did you think I sent him over for?'


End file.
